The Silver Savior
by Eniko151
Summary: (AOU spoilers) Avengers Fanfiction set a while after Age of Ultron. Pietro is not dead and has recovered. The Avengers are fighting a terrorist organisation called Sting. The Avengers have been summoned to investigate a warehouse where shield picked up a radio signal. This could end badly for one of the team.
1. Ambush

"Nat look out!" Clint yelled.

About 20 heavily armed men were crouching down in a sniper position. Nat was currently fighting a large, muscly, almost giant-like man wielding an axe. She ducked as he swung his axe in a horizontal motion. Thor swung his hammer upwards, hitting one of the men he was battling into the air. Pietro zoomed round, a silver blur, relaying messages and smashing into terrorists. The Hulk was surrounded by many men armed with guns. Steve jumped around like a ninja, hitting terrorists with his strong, metal shield.

The group had been investigating an abandoned warehouse when they were ambushed. The people they were fighting were a terrorist organisation known as Sting, and had been threatening and murdering various people working in the white house. They had been working their way up in ranks until the president himself had received a death threat. Clint struck an arm out to the side, embedding an arrow in a one of the terrorist's foreheads. The man crumpled to the ground as Clint pulled out the arrow. He raced towards Nat, firing arrows at the gun-men targeting her. Hulk appeared out of nowhere and practically rolled on the line of terrorists who were pointing guns at Nat. One of them jumped out the way just in time. The man straightened up and aimed his pistol at Clint, who, when he had seen that Nat was safe, had run to help Wanda. Clint spun round to face the man. He heard a crack like lightning and pain exploded in his chest. Time slowed down as he fell backwards.

"CLINT!" He heard Nat scream his name and Steve whipped round in alarm at the sound.

He closed his eyes as his legs gave way. His hair was ruffled by a rush of air. He felt hands on the back of his head and back, catching him before he hit the ground. Clint's eyelids flickered open. Staring down at him were the light, blue eyes of Pietro Maximoff.

"Clint! I've got you. Hold on!"

Strong arms lifted him into the air. His bow fell to the ground as he lost the strength to hold it. The thump as it hit the floor was unnaturally loud in Clint's ears. He wanted to tell Pietro to put him down so he could pick it up and carry on fighting but when he opened his mouth no sound came.

"Natasha! Tell Stark to get us out of here now!" Pietro yelled.

Barely 10 seconds had passed before they heard the familiar roar of the Quinjet. Wind whipped their faces as the jet ascended through the broken roof of the warehouse, causing the terrorists to scatter. The Hulk forced his way through the warehouse wall and lumbered away at a surprisingly fast rate. The doors opened as the jet landed and Pietro ran inside with Clint in his arms. Nat ran in, Wanda and Thor close behind her. Steve followed a short while after, slinging his shield on his back. He rammed his shoulder against the door and it shut with a bang. Pietro laid a shocked, sweating Clint gently on the floor as the engines roared to life and the jet took off. By this time Clint's heartbeat was fast and irregular and he was struggling to stay conscious; his eyelids flickering, his breathing coming out in short gasps.

"Tony get back to the tower as fast as you can, Clint's injured!" Natasha shouted as she ran over to inspect the wounded archer.

Clint swallowed painfully as Natasha crouched beside him; she put two of her fingers on his neck to check his pulse. Pietro knelt on Clint's right, his worried expression fixed on Natasha.

"Pulse is weak. He needs medical attention fast." She reported pulling her hand away.

She took out a dagger and cut open a large rip in his shirt, revealing a hole in his chest from which dark, red blood flowed down the side of his torso and dripped onto the floor. Clint did his best to breathe deeply but the pain in his chest was increasing and he had to grit his teeth. His body tensed as Natasha pressed a cloth around the bullet hole and he cried out as it touched the inside of his wound, gasping in short mouthfuls of air. Pietro laid a hand on Clint's head and whispered some soft words of comfort. But now Clint had no strength left to keep his eyes open. He slowly turned his head to look at Pietro, but there was no time to say thank you, before darkness claimed him and he fell into unconsciousness.


	2. Guilt

"How is he?"

Pietro had come up to the medical room in stark towers to see Clint. Nat was just coming out of the room; she closed the door behind her. When she saw Pietro her mouth twitched in a sad smile but her expression quickly changed to a mixture of sadness and worry, the same expression had been on her face since Clint had fallen unconscious on the jet. Clint had been unconscious in the medical room for three days. The others had been unusually quiet since he had obtained his injury. Natasha had not trained, Thor had left his hammer on the table, untouched, and when Tony swore at one of his 'distractions' Steve had not said a word.

Nat shook her head and sighed. "He's not in a good way."

Pietro looked at Nat and his heart twisted with sadness as he saw the hopelessness in her eyes. He wanted to comfort her, maybe a hug would help, but he wasn't sure how the fiery assassin would react. He merely placed a hand gently on her shoulder, hoping this would help in some way.

"Am I allowed to see him?" He asked.

"The doctors aren't in there… so, as long as you don't disturb him, you're allowed in." She explained, her voice tired, as if she hadn't slept for days.

 _'Perhaps she hasn't'_ Pietro thought, worriedly, as he pushed open the door.

Clint was lying in a bed on the far side of the room, an oxygen mask over his mouth. His shirt was hung over a chair beside his bed. Pietro sat down on the chair to Clint's left. His heart flew to his throat as he looked at him. His face was pale, white, covered in scratches and every rib showed. A bandage had been wrapped around his torso, covering the place where the bullet had gone in. One hand was laid over his chest, the other at his left side. His eyes were closed and his mouth partly open as he struggled for air. Every ragged breath made Pietro's stomach clench with sympathy.

"Clint..." His voice sounded hoarse and he cleared his throat. "Clint it's me." Pietro paused. He knew Clint couldn't hear him but a part of him still felt he needed to talk to him. "I'm sorry. Clint. I should have been there for you. I could have got you out the way in time..." His voice broke and he swallowed, inhaled deeply and began to speak again. He talked slowly, pausing in places as if he couldn't find any words to say. "I.. I'll do my best to protect you next time.. I promise.. I..." His voice trailed off and he swallowed again, opened his mouth, leaning forward slightly to say something, before closing it again and slumping back in his chair. He sat there for a while, not thinking about anything in particular. After a few minutes of silence he mumbled. "Please get better Clint. I… We… need your strength."

He looked at Clint's face, searching for any sign that he had heard. There was none. The archer's sleeping face was as expressionless as ever. Pietro moved his hand over to Clint and rested it gently on his left hand. He left it there for a brief second before withdrawing it, taking a deep breath and wiping his soaked eyes with his palm. He pushed himself out of the chair and walked towards the door, casting one last glance at Clint over his shoulder, before he opened the door and walked out of the room.


	3. Medical Room

"BOOM!"

The missile detonated as it hit the Chitauri mothership, blasting it to bits. Clint fell back towards the earth and it was only when he was back through the wormhole, and gaining speed, did he realise. He was in the Iron man suit. The power seemed to be off and he was falling down into the centre of New York at a terrifying speed. Clint shut his eyes tight as he braced himself…Silence.

Clint opened his eyes a crack, instantly shutting them tight again as bright, white light pierced them. He tried again, opening his eyes slowly. He felt the mask on his face and raised an arm to pull it off. He gasped at the sharp pain in his chest, moved his arm more slowly and took off the mask. He then allowed his eyes to travel around the room. He was in one of the beds in the medical room of stark towers. As he turned his head to the right he saw Nat curled up in an armchair beside his bed; her knees to her stomach, her head rested on her hands. She was asleep. Clint had no idea what day it was but he could judge he time by looking outside the window. The bright light that had blinded him when he had woken came from the lamp above him. It was dark outside so Clint concluded it must be after 8:00pm.

He closed his eyes and thought about his dream. _Was that what Tony had seen when he had destroyed the Chitauri ship?_ He wondered. _Was I in his head?_ Clint immediately scattered the thought. Nat stirred beside him, making him lift his head a fraction. He shuffled, carefully, into a sitting position. As soon as he found a comfortable position, however, he felt a tingle in his throat and erupted into a hoarse coughing fit. Pain lanced through his chest, making him clutch his ribs with his hand. The loud noise woke Nat, who immediately sat bolt upright and leant over, putting her hands on the edge of Clint's bed.

"Clint? Clint, are you okay?"

Clint nodded slightly, still coughing. He closed his mouth, swallowing back his coughing.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." He assured her, leaning back on the wall.

Nat looked unconvinced. She got up from the chair and sat on the edge of Clint's bed. She tipped her head to one side and placed a hand on his forehead.

"You're a bit hot." She said, removing her hand from his head. Then she smiled. "Pietro's been in here a few times."

"Has he?" Clint asked, surprised.

Nat nodded and suddenly looked serious. "I think he feels responsible that you got hurt."

Clint frowned. "That's stupid. What could the kid do about me getting shot?"

Nat flinched visibly as she remembered the ambush, Clint immediately felt bad and muttered an apology. Nat looked up at him. "I'll let him know you're awake and that you don't blame him." She said, running a hand through Clint's hair. "You should get some more rest."

Clint smiled slightly before asking. "How long have I been out? What time is it?"

Nat stood up, smoothing out the place where she had been sitting. "Three days and 9:48."

Clint let out a small sigh, barely loud enough to hear and chuckled. "I think i've rested long enough then. I don't think i could sleep any longer."

Natasha looked at him; her gaze seemed to be assessing his health. "I'll go get some of the others to keep you company then." She headed for the door calling the last words over his shoulder. "I'll see who i run into. I think Pietro's up if you want me to get him." She opened the door, without waiting for a reply, and walked out.

He exhaled softly as she left the room. _Why was Pietro feeling guilty?_ He asked himself. _Three days! I wonder who Nat will tell and if they will come._ Alone with his thoughts Clint felt himself becoming increasingly bored. He gently moved his head so he was looking to his right. Beside his bed was a grey monitor. It was whirring softly and by the numbers and motions Clint guessed it was his heart rate. _80bpm! That's almost double my usual resting heart rate_ , Clint realised with a jolt. He noticed the water gun injected into the back of his right hand for the first time since waking. It was uncomfortable feeling something under his skin. He jumped as the door banged open. Standing in the doorway were Tony, Bruce and Steve.

"I told you he'd jump out his skin" Tony said with a wide grin, directing the words to Steve at his right.

"I never said he wouldn't, i just said it might not be a good idea to try and make him jump." Steve retorted.

Bruce cast a sideways glance at them from Tony's left. "Honestly you two! Your friends been unconscious for three days and when he finally wakes up all you can do is argue with each other."

Tony and Steve exchanged guilty looks. Clint grunted in amusement as both their faces broke into smiles and both made an unnaturally high-pitched mocking noise.

"Oooooooh! Yes Mum."

They both jinxed each other and then fell silent, realising in despair that they couldn't talk unless someone said their name. Bruce grinned and they all pulled up chairs to gather round Clint bed.


	4. The Party Deck

A half-moon floated in an indigo sky. The stars scattered around like petals on a lake. Pietro sat on the stairs in the floor beneath the medical room. The room that Tony, in the past, had referred to as the 'Party deck'. It certainly didn't feel like it to Pietro. The place was deserted. Silent. Pietro looked over the glowing city of New York. He sighed and tucked a strand of white hair behind his ear. In HYDRA's lab he would have given anything for a view like this. To sit here with Wanda at his side would have been a dream. But now he wanted nothing more than to curl up and hide from the world. Wanda was in her bed, almost definitely asleep at this time of night. But Pietro could not sleep. No matter how much he tried. His mind was racked with guilt that, for once, he had not been fast enough. _You pathetic excuse for a human_ , he whispered to himself angrily. _Off you go zooming about all day but when it really matters you can't even protect your friends._ His eyes grew hot as he remembered Clint. Pietro closed his eyes, the image of Clint on the floor of the jet still vivid in his mind. His friend, unconscious on the metal panels, blood flowing onto the floor of the Quinjet as Natasha tried desperately to stop the bleeding. He opened his eyes and blinked furiously, banishing the tears. He jumped as a door on the bottom floor banged open. Natasha ran in, skidding to a halt as she noticed Pietro. He scrambled to his feet as he saw the urgency on her face.

"Whats wrong? What is it? Is it Clint?" He couldn't stop the questions from tumbling out of his mouth.

Natasha raised a hand to silence him as she bent over, breathing heavily. _She must have run all the way from the medical room,_ Pietro realised with a jolt of fear. _Was Clint dying?_

Natasha straightened up, hands clutched to her sides.

"Oh man, I've got such a stitch." She said, half to herself.

Pietro had now concluded that Clint wasn't dying. She wouldn't have wasted time talking about stitches if he was. But he was still slightly anxious.

"Well?" He asked, his impatience clear in his tone of voice.

Natasha folded her arms and raised her eyebrows, a corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile. This was a look that clearly said, _you're worried aren't you._ When Pietro continued to stare at her with an annoyed expression she unfolded her arms and her face broke into a full grin.

"Clint woke up when I was with him." She told him.

Pietro blinked in surprise. "Was he talking?"

"Yes he was fine. I told him about your little visits."

Pietro's face flushed a dark red and he studied his feet, hoping Natasha wouldn't notice. She had told Clint! What did she say? Did she hear what I had said to him? Pietro itched to ask her these questions but he held his tongue as she continued.

"I think he's awake now, some of the others went to see him so he probably woke up." She said. "He'd wake at a pin dropping." She added with a small laugh.

"Are we going to see him then?" Pietro wondered aloud. "I mean… You didn't run all the way for nothing."

Natasha nodded. "If you aren't too busy."

Pietro shook his head. "Let's go."


	5. Affection

"Tony don't touch that! TONY!"

Tony hesitated before rolling his eyes. "Fiiiiine."

He threw his hands up in surrender as Bruce continued to glare at him; his eyes stern. Tony had been about to unplug one of the machines next to Clint before Bruce had scolded him and told him to sit down. Tony obeyed, muttering to himself about not having any fun as he slouched in an armchair. Pietro watched them through the window. They hadn't seen him yet. He jumped as Natasha opened the door and he speeded to her side. She walked into the room and said something to Steve about him being in her place. The blonde man smiled up at her but didn't move. Pietro, still standing in the doorway, caught Clint's eye. The archer opened his mouth to say something but, before he could utter a word, Pietro had disappeared. He zoomed across the room, a silver blur. The next thing Clint knew was Pietro's arms around his neck, carefully avoiding his wound. He had no time to react to the hug before Pietro zoomed off again, reappearing next to his bed, sat in a black chair. Pietro gazed at Clint, as if he couldn't believe he was there. Clint privately thought he was over-reacting but the show of affection had been appreciated. Tony's face broke into a smile and he nudged Steve.

"Come on soldier. We'd better leave them to it."

Natasha threw him an annoyed look. She turned back to Clint, about to speak. She saw something in his expression which made her frown. Clint nodded towards the door; a nod so small you wouldn't notice it if you weren't looking for it. Natasha tipped her head to one side questioningly. Clint looked up at her with pleading eyes. She dipped her head slightly and pushed Bruce out of his chair, calling to Steve and Tony to leave. Pietro stood to follow them as they clustered out the door but he was held back. He looked down to see Clint's hand around his wrist. Pietro looked at it for a few moments as if he had forgotten what it was.

"Kid?"

Pietro raised his head. The archer gestured for him to sit down and Pietro did so. Pietro glanced up at Clint, lowing his gaze again as Clint caught his eye.

"Kid. I don't blame you ok?"

Pietro rubbed a hand at the base of his neck. He hadn't expected this. Had Natasha told the old man? She must have, he decided.

Clint frowned as he hesitated. "Pietro?" Clint was obviously waiting for a reply.

"I… Errm… Cli…" Pietro stuttered then sighed and hung his head. "I'm sorry."

Clint's eyes softened. "I know you are." He whispered. "But don't be because it wasn't your fault and there was nothing you could have done."

"Bu… But I could have stopped it." Pietro sounded like a scared child alone in the dark.

Clint leaned forward, reached out a hand and put in on Pietro's. "No you couldn't."

Pietro's eyes widened in surprise. This was exactly what he had done to Clint when he was unconscious. _Did he know?_ Pietro shook his head, _no, he couldn't know._

Pietro managed a small smile and Clint leant back against the wall, shuffling his legs into a more comfortable position. "Thanks Kid. I owe you my life."

Pietro shook his head. "You owe me nothing. We all look out for each other."

Clint angled his head slightly. His respect for the kid was growing rapidly. I've got to know him, Clint reflected on the times he and Pietro had joked around together, annoyed Steve so much he had thrown a chair at them. Clint grinned to himself. Pietro and Clint talked for a while, about the recent avenger missions, until Pietro noticed Clint was looking tired and he glanced at his watch. It was 11:24pm.

"You should sleep." He advised Clint. "It's getting late."

Clint nodded and pushed himself, carefully, down into a lying position. He let out a small sigh and his eyes fluttered shut. Pietro watched him, listening to his breathing. It slowed as he drifted to sleep; his chest rose and fell slowly. Pietro reached out a hand and put it on Clint's head. He smoothed his hair back and stood up, placing a kiss on the archer's forehead before he zoomed out of the room. Clint blinked open his eyes and smiled.


End file.
